Always Together
by Alison May
Summary: After Cordelia's death in "You're Welcome" Buffy pays a visit to Angel at Cordy's grave.
1. Default Chapter

The night was oddly cold and dark for LA, but Buffy didn't mind. After all the years of nocturnal wandering she almost felt more comfortable when dusk fell. When it was dark she was in charge. Which was why she was shocked at how out of control she felt as she strode quietly through the damp graveyard. The dark figure stood just where she knew he would be. But the shape of his shoulders told her he wasn't the strong man she remembered. He looked broken in a way she had never seen before and while it broke her heart it also sparked a small current of jealously through her. Before this night she wouldn't have believed that Cordelia could ever mean this much to him.  
  
"Angel." She spoke softly but he spun around almost before the words left her mouth.  
  
"Buffy, what are you doing here?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and moving protectively in front of the small gravestone.  
  
She frowned at his question. His defensive stance and warn tone surprised her. She had thought he would be happy to see her, even under the circumstances.  
  
"I came to pay my respects. To help you through this. Wesley said..."  
  
"Wesley shouldn't have called you." Angel cut her off. "I don't need you here."  
  
"I'm not here to pick a fight. You loved her and I can respect that. I mean it's hard because it's Cordelia but..." Buffy trailed off.  
  
"You don't know her any more! She's not the girl you knew." Angel retorted, his voice increasing in volume.  
  
"I know Angel. If you loved her she couldn't be." Buffy said softly, tucking her cold hands into her coat. When Angel didn't answer, Buffy continued.  
  
"Zander and Willow came with me. They're resting at the hotel. There going to come by tomorrow, and you know, say goodbye. Giles wanted to come but her couldn't because of the new slayers." Buffy stated.  
  
"Buffy the thing with Andrew, do you not trust me anymore?" Angel asked.  
  
"I still trust you, but let's not talk about that. This is about Cordelia." Buffy finished, avoiding Angel's eyes. "I know it doesn't mean much, but we needed to come. For her."  
  
"Buffy, she should be alive. We shouldn't be standing at her grave." Angel answered softly.  
  
"She chose to make a difference. She could have had a perfectly shallow life as Queen C but she didn't want to. You and I didn't choose this life but she did. And in some ways that makes her more of a hero than either of us, Angel."  
  
"Buffy, I don't know how to keep going. Everything hurts." When Angel looked at Buffy she saw him closer to despair than she ever thought was possible. Through everything else, she could always count on Angel to be strong. After looking at his trembling shoulders Buffy made a choice.  
  
She reached out and wrapped her arms around him. He resisted at first but gradually relaxed. Then as much as Buffy wanted to be strong for him she couldn't hold in the tears. Tears for what she could never have. Tears for what Cordelia would never have. Tears for that part of Angel that Cordelia would always own but never get to hold. And then she started laughing through her tears.  
  
Angel pulled back genuinely concerned, tears she hadn't noticed falling were evident on his face.  
  
"It's funny." Buffy choked out, wiping the tears out of her eyes. "I came to comfort you and look who is doing the comforting."  
  
"I'll always be here to comfort you." Angel said she took Buffy back into his arms and neither one could keep the tears at bay.  
  
Away from the couple at the grave a man with a brown coat and a soft Irish accent stood watching with a beautiful curly haired woman.  
  
"Are you ready to go me 'Delia?" he asked softly.  
  
"Never." she answered. "But if I was, what would we do now?"  
  
"We wait. And watch." he smiled lopsidedly at her.  
  
"Together, Doyle?" she asked holding out her hand.  
  
"Always together, princess." he answered, slipping his hand into hers.  
  
For a moment the sound of two voices, one a lilting baritone and the other a laughing soprano echoed through the grave yard. When Buffy looked over Angel's shoulder, for a second she saw a woman turn around and smile radiantly at her, a smile that could only ever belong to Cordelia. Then the woman picked up the hand of the man with her and just as Buffy was sure it was Cordelia they were both gone.  
  
"Angel," Buffy asked "What was the name of the Irish guy who used to work with you?"  
  
Angel looked at Buffy puzzled, pulling away slightly but making no indication that he had noticed anything abnormal and answered. "Doyle. But he died years ago."  
  
"Angel, what if I could guaranty to you that Cordy is happy?"  
  
"I wish you could." Angel answered softly. "But you can't."  
  
"She is. Happy I mean." Buffy responded and took a couple of steps away.  
  
"How?" Angel asked. Enough weird things happened that he wasn't positive that this was just a ploy to make him less depressed.  
  
"I see her smiling." Buffy answered over her shoulder and began her journey out of the graveyard.  
  
Angel stood at Cordelia's grave until the dark shadows started to lighten. Just as he turned to leave he though he heard two familiar voices laughing, but then again, it could have only been the leaves. 


	2. A Silver Dress and an Irish Man

Although Willow Rosenberg wasn't normally prone to drowning sorrows in alcohol, she figured that this one night could be an exception. She and Xander Harris were in the bar of their Los Anglos hotel staring at the bottom of glasses that, moments earlier had been very full.

She and Xander and Buffy Summers had flown to Los Angeles that day after Willow got a frantic phone call from an old friend, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. Wesley had told Willow through want sounded suspiciously like tears that Cordelia Chase had been in a coma for months and had died unexpectedly the night before.

So Willow, Xander, and Buffy had done the only thing they could do. They hopped on a plane and flew to L.A. They arrived to late for the funeral, and Wesley told them when he met them at the airport that it had been a somber affair. After Sunndale was destroyed no one had any idea how to contact Cordelia's family so the small, late night service consisted of only Cordelia's Angel Investigation colleges. Now Buffy was visiting Cordelia's grave, where they all knew Angel would be waiting. And so Willow and Xander found themselves in a bar staring into very empty glasses.

"Feel any better?" she asked Xander, glancing at her old friend.

"No. Just fuzzier but still miserable." He answered taking one last look at the bottom of him glass.

"Xander, would you really want to feel better right now?" Willow asked knowingly.

"No. I wouldn't. I'm sorry Will, I know you've gone through this yourself before."

"We've both lost people we love. I think it's the curse." Willow answered.

"The curse?" Xander questioned.

"Of helping people. Of, you know, saving the world. But I guess neither of us expected to be here for Cordelia." Willow looked at Zander to gauge his reaction and continued.

"With Cordy out of Sunnydale I never thought about her being in danger. But she was. Fighting the good fight and all." She finished, giving Xander's hand a squeeze

"Will, the thing is that I feel like I missed out on knowing the real Cordy. Wesley seems adamant that she wasn't the same Queen C we knew, and I wish I could have know this Cordy. Willow, I loved her." Xander finished softly.

"I know. And so did she. I feel a little funny being here together, you know, considering what we did to her. But it was so long ago." Willow responded.

"She forgave us long ago. I know she did." Xander answered.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom. Get me another drink?" Willow said, squeezing his hand as she stood. He nodded and she left.

He sat for a moment quietly without signaling the bartender, lost in thought. The bar was quiet and relatively empty, except for Xander and an elderly couple at a table over by the door.

"Going to order another drink or just sit staring at the bottom?" asked a soft voice over his shoulder."

Xander spun around quickly, not believing his ears.

"Cordelia!" he exclaimed as the woman standing before him came into focus. Curly hair, brown eyes and a silver dress that he quickly recognized as the dress she had worn to their senior prom clearly identified the woman as Cordelia Chase.

"Yeah." she answered. "It's me."

"But…" he responded but she cut him off.

"I'm dead. I know. But it's really me." She answered smiling radiantly.

"How?" he asked. He had seen enough weirdness in Sunnnydale that he wasn't as surprised as he rationally should be.

"Mystical coma apparently equals magical death which means… I don't know. But somehow it means I can be here." Cordelia answered.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me." she continued.

"I am. But for how long?" he asked, fearful there was a catch.

"Not long. Long enough." She answered.

"For what?" he asked.

"To tie up loose ends. To say good-bye. The fact that you see me like this, in this dress means good things. You see me in you mind in a place that we didn't hate each other." She sat down next to him and ordered two more drinks from the bartender.

"Can you drink that?" Xander asker her

"I don't know. Don't think so. Its for Willow."

"Will you stay?" Xander questioned. "To talk to Willow?"

"Maybe. But she looks a little preoccupied to me." Cordelia said, gesturing to where Willow stood by a table over on the same side of the room as the elderly couple. A pleasant looking man in a brown coat sat at the table and was trying to engage Willow in conversation.

"Xander," Cordelia said softly as she took his face in her hands and turned him away from where Willow stood. "I just needed to see you. To let you know that I don't hate you, that I did love you once and still will forever." Cordelia finished with tears shinning in her eyes.

"Cordy," Xander said softly taking both of her hands in his. "I love you too."

"You know, Xander, I've really only been in love three times." Cordelia admitted, not without some humor.

"Who?" Xander questioned, suddenly very curious.

"Does it really matter, now?" Cordelia attempted to sidestep but relented and answered.

"You, an Irishman named Doyle, and…Angel." She finally finished.

"You love Dead Boy, too? Jesus, what is this world coming to?" Xander exclaimed. But Cordelia only smiled enigmatically. She stood up and took both of Xander's hands in her own and pulled him close to her. She kissed him softly but chastely and turned silently away as tears streamed down both of their faces.

As Willow made her way back from the bathroom towards Xander she saw him sitting very close to a flashy brunette woman. Willow felt a surge of anger. Xander was flirting with a girl who could almost be Cordy's twin when they came to visit her grave! She picked up her pace but a voice with a soft Irish accent stopped her in her tracks.

"You must be Pebbles."

Willow spun around and more irritably then was normal for her. Getting picked up by strange drunk men in bars wasn't her favorite activity and especially on tonight of all nights.

"Excuse me?" She said acidly as she turned around. The man who had spoken didn't look like a drunken pervert and the way he was smiling seemed inviting but Willow was still annoyed.

"I used to call your boyfriend Oz Bam-Bam, so that makes you Pebbles doesn't it?" he asked with a soft lilt.

"You know Oz?" Willow asked, shocked, sinking uninvited into the chair opposite the strange man."

"Knew him once." He answered taking a long look at the drink sitting in front of him.

"Knew him? He's not…" Willow started but the man interrupted.

"Dead? No he's just fine. I'm sorry. I should introduce myself. The name's Doyle. I used to work for Angel."

"Oh!" Exclaimed Willow with comprehension dawning in her eyes "Oz mentioned you. The whole Gem of Armania thing. You got drunk and called him your 'little Bam Bam.'"

"Right you are. I had hoped to forget about the whole incident."

"So you're here for Cordy, right?" Willow questioned. Doyle nodded an affirmative.

"I'd go anywhere for her." Doyle answered truthfully.

"Why did you stop working for Angel?" Willow asked inquisitively after a brief pause.

"I guess you could say that we needed to take different paths." Doyle answered cryptically but Willow didn't push the matter.

"You know she forgave you, right?" Doyle abruptly changed the topic.

"For that thing with Xander. She didn't talk about Sunnydale much in the old days but I got her drunk once and she told me how Xander broke her heart. And she told me something she might have denied later, that how after a while it wasn't you and Xander she was angry at. It was Oz." Willow made a move as if to interrupt Doyle's story but he raised his hand off the table and continued.

"She envied your relationship. She was angry that Oz found it his heart to forgive you when she couldn't forgive Xander. She did love him, you know. But it scared her that she couldn't ever bring her self to trust him again. And she couldn't understand why if she loved him, she couldn't forgive and forget but Oz could."

Willow looked into Doyle's eyes and saw nothing but truth and sorrow there.

"I wish that I'd had any idea. I was never a very good friend to her." Willow answered the only way she knew how.

"Do you remember when you asked why I left Angel Investigations?" Doyle questioned as he again steered the conversation. When Willow nodded he continued.

"Well when I said we took different paths that was an understatement. And then you asked if I was here for Cordelia?" Willow look puzzled but Doyle pushed on.

"That isn't entirely accurate. It would be better if I said I was here with Cordelia. And that I died four years ago."

Willow opened her mouth to speak but promptly closed it again words failed her. As odd as all of this sounded she felt that this strange man was telling the truth.

"You're dead."

"Yeah."

"Dead!"

"Um hum."

"How did you die?" Willow finally spit out.

"Someone had to die so everyone else could live and I guess you can say I volunteered, although, volunteering doesn't usually involve having to knock Angel unconscious first." Doyle answered with a lopsided smile.

"My princess beckons." Doyle said as he rose to his feet. And surely enough there stood Cordelia smiling luminously and holding out her hand. Willow glanced past Cordelia to where Xander stood at the bar watching with teary eyes.

"Cordelia!" Willow exclaimed softly but Cordelia interrupted her.

"I know, Willow. I know." And with one more glowing smile Cordelia turned to leave.

"Doyle!" Willow stopped his progress as her turned to leave with Cordelia. He turned and looked at her patiently.

"Thank you." She finished softly.

"Good-bye, Pebbles." He answered with a winking smile

The pair turned to leave, heads very close together and Willow heard Cordy's bell-like laughter ring through the room. To a casual observer the pair's clothing marked them as extremely mismatched: Cordelia in her silver dress and Doyle in his brown coat but somehow they radiated an air of intimacy that Willow almost envied.

Willow watched until no trace of the pair remained and then she returned to Xander at the bar.

"You all right?" she affectionately questioned a shell shocked Xander.

"Actually, I'm better now." He answered, giving her a small smile.

"Will, that man, was he Doyle?"

Willow nodded and the two settled into a companionable silence, content to not speak of what they had just experienced, as if talking might make it some fantastic dream.

After what could have been moments or hours, the familiar voice of Buffy Summers jarred them from their silent contemplation.

"Guys, what's wrong?" she asked but when neither answered she settled into an empty seat next to Willow.

"Hey I know this is a weird question but what do you know about a guy named Doyle?" Buffy questioned and was suppressed when Willow and Xander both roused from their lethargic state and sat up rigidly. They looked at each other for a moment and then both pushed their untouched drinks towards Buffy.

"You are defiantly going to need these." Xander informed Buffy and without further hesitation, Willow started recounting their strange tale.


End file.
